Thursday, August 15, 2013
Section from "The Book Club Murders"
Chapter 1
Claude lay in bed, eyes closed, but nonetheless, awake. His bedroom was exceedingly warm causing him to sweat buckets until his sheets felt saturated. Funny, it was winter and he thought he had turned the heat down to 58 degrees earlier in the evening. He slept best when a chill was in the air and the ceiling fan delivered just enough of a gentle breeze to keep him comfortable.
It wasn't long before he couldn't stand it anymore and he threw the top sheet and light blanket off and his eyes sprang open. Five seconds later, his eyes adjusted to the blackness, revealing her standing near the end of the bed.
"What are you doing here? What time is it?" he frantically asked.
Moving around the corner of the bed, she edged closer. "Does it matter?"
Claude had thought he would never see her again. Fear seeped into his brain as he wondered how she had entered his apartment. And the heat, the damn heat and sweat were driving him insane. He was literally swimming in his own sweat soaked sheets and trembling as he watched her come closer.
"I thought we needed some time together," she said while removing her clothes and nestling close to his body, making the sweaty heat even more unbearable.
"I, I can't. It's too hot in here. Let me turn down the heat," he pleaded.
"You know I like it this way. Stay in bed." She then began her special process.
Saturday, July 27, 2013
A little more from "Brothers".
His brother Kellan and cousin Mitch were running on the path leading to the opposite side of the bridge. They were yelling while pointing downriver at Stranger, Jack's family dog. Stranger was trapped in the icy water, desperately pawing at the edges of the ice while yelping loudly, trying to free himself from the frigid grave that awaited him.
Running quickly, Jack ignored the danger of falling and made it to the other side of the bridge. Slushy ice flew as his feet hit the pathway, and his instincts took over. The dash to the area where the spring emptied into the Red Cedar took him only a minute. Stranger continued yelping and pawing at the ice as Jack laid himself out headfirst on the thinning ice cap and grabbed a paw, pulling the dog out of the water and completely off the ice to safety. The dog shook vigorously, covering Jack, Kellan, and Mitch with an icy shower before running in circles on the shore. It was an anticlimactic end to Stranger's life threatening event.
As the memory faded, Jack smiled, crossed his arms, and sat back on the stool. He had probably saved his dog's life that early spring day forty-five years ago.
My God, forty-five years ago. How could time pass so quickly? It didn't seem that long ago, and yet, it did.
So many things had changed over the years: marriages, kids, grandchildren. Thinking philosophically had never been his forte, but a strange mixture of melancholy and contentment filled his brain, and, as he resettled himself on his thickly padded stool, other memories began swirling in his head.
His brother Kellan and cousin Mitch were running on the path leading to the opposite side of the bridge. They were yelling while pointing downriver at Stranger, Jack's family dog. Stranger was trapped in the icy water, desperately pawing at the edges of the ice while yelping loudly, trying to free himself from the frigid grave that awaited him.
Running quickly, Jack ignored the danger of falling and made it to the other side of the bridge. Slushy ice flew as his feet hit the pathway, and his instincts took over. The dash to the area where the spring emptied into the Red Cedar took him only a minute. Stranger continued yelping and pawing at the ice as Jack laid himself out headfirst on the thinning ice cap and grabbed a paw, pulling the dog out of the water and completely off the ice to safety. The dog shook vigorously, covering Jack, Kellan, and Mitch with an icy shower before running in circles on the shore. It was an anticlimactic end to Stranger's life threatening event.
As the memory faded, Jack smiled, crossed his arms, and sat back on the stool. He had probably saved his dog's life that early spring day forty-five years ago.
My God, forty-five years ago. How could time pass so quickly? It didn't seem that long ago, and yet, it did.
So many things had changed over the years: marriages, kids, grandchildren. Thinking philosophically had never been his forte, but a strange mixture of melancholy and contentment filled his brain, and, as he resettled himself on his thickly padded stool, other memories began swirling in his head.
Friday, July 19, 2013
A rough, rough draft from my book on brothers..........
Jack rummaged in the tall, wooden cabinet his father had made eons ago, trying to find the folding saw his children had given him for Christmas. He was gathering items he always took for the annual trek to the Boundary Waters Canoe Area with his two brothers.
After several fruitless searches into the back of the cabinet, he gave up and returned to sit on the high stool he left by the window that framed a view of his wooded backyard. Comfortably ensconced on the stool, he gazed into the trees fifty feet away.
After staring for twenty seconds or more, the trees slowly blurred as his mind wandered. He soon immersed himself in a memory of when he was eleven walking on the old railroad bridge behind their family home.
Straddling the long, wooden planks, separated by three-inch gaps, the walk across the bridge had always frightened him. The drop was forty feet to the Red Cedar River below, and the water rarely froze as it flowed quickly through the narrows squeezing through the mini gorge it had cut out long ago. Ancient stumps could be seen hiding just below the water's surface along with the occasional flash from a rock bass as it flipped sideways while swimming through the thigh deep water.
He stopped his progress and looked up when he heard frantic yelps coming from the direction of the still semi-frozen river two hundred yards away. The thirty-foot river banks, which sloped gently to the water's edge on both sides of the river, were still mostly covered in snow. On the river, slits in the ice revealed tiny ripples on the water's surface that had been manufactured by a cold, ten knot breeze whistling through the miniature gorge.
Jack rummaged in the tall, wooden cabinet his father had made eons ago, trying to find the folding saw his children had given him for Christmas. He was gathering items he always took for the annual trek to the Boundary Waters Canoe Area with his two brothers.
After several fruitless searches into the back of the cabinet, he gave up and returned to sit on the high stool he left by the window that framed a view of his wooded backyard. Comfortably ensconced on the stool, he gazed into the trees fifty feet away.
After staring for twenty seconds or more, the trees slowly blurred as his mind wandered. He soon immersed himself in a memory of when he was eleven walking on the old railroad bridge behind their family home.
Straddling the long, wooden planks, separated by three-inch gaps, the walk across the bridge had always frightened him. The drop was forty feet to the Red Cedar River below, and the water rarely froze as it flowed quickly through the narrows squeezing through the mini gorge it had cut out long ago. Ancient stumps could be seen hiding just below the water's surface along with the occasional flash from a rock bass as it flipped sideways while swimming through the thigh deep water.
He stopped his progress and looked up when he heard frantic yelps coming from the direction of the still semi-frozen river two hundred yards away. The thirty-foot river banks, which sloped gently to the water's edge on both sides of the river, were still mostly covered in snow. On the river, slits in the ice revealed tiny ripples on the water's surface that had been manufactured by a cold, ten knot breeze whistling through the miniature gorge.
Tuesday, June 25, 2013
Well, my hiatus is over, tomorrow morning I begin writing again on a regular basis. I'll set aside three hours every morning and have at it. I've got a bunch of ideas swimming around in my head again and have gathered some technical information that I need to support one of my stories, The Book Club Murders.
I've also gathered several stories to support the other novel in my head, tentatively titled, Brothers, so as soon as I've written something acceptable I'll post samples.
I've also gathered several stories to support the other novel in my head, tentatively titled, Brothers, so as soon as I've written something acceptable I'll post samples.
Wednesday, June 12, 2013
I recently had some great news! I have been selected to be one of the presenting authors in Austin's Artworks Festival, August 24th and 25th. I will be talking about my books on Sunday, August 25th, 2013 at noon for about 45 minutes. My presentation will cover why I began writing, the process I use, reading a couple of selections from my books, and a question and answer portion.
I'm very excited about this opportunity and looking forward to it. My books will also be on sale at the event.
The Austin Artworks Festival will take place in the old Utility Building in downtown Austin. Please stop in and visit.
I'm very excited about this opportunity and looking forward to it. My books will also be on sale at the event.
The Austin Artworks Festival will take place in the old Utility Building in downtown Austin. Please stop in and visit.
Thursday, April 25, 2013
The Book Club Murders (tentative title of my next mystery novel)
This is the prologue for my next mystery, tentatively titled, The Book Club Murders.
The Book Club Murders
Carin, Jenny, and Mary investigate two murders of their book club members in Rose Creek and Austin, Mn. They are assisted by Beth and Lisa Dolcheski, deputy sheriff of Spirit Grove.
Prologue
Rose Creek, Minnesota
She watched and waited, shielded from view by the protective shadows across the street. It was 10:08 p.m. The porch light had flicked on and the door had opened. Laughter permeated the air as women filtered out of the house, saying their goodbyes and then getting into their cars and driving away.
Laura Walters was the last to leave. She stood clearly illuminated in the porch light as she shared laughs and final words with the host of the monthly book club meeting. Laura said her last goodbye as she turned, exited the porch, and began the four block walk to her home; it was a neatly kept two story colonial on the north side of County Road 4.
The four glasses of wine she had drunk during the "meeting" seemed to warm her innards, although she still pulled the collar tighter against her exposed neck. She wore no hat as she braved the winter chill and negotiated the icy sidewalk guiding her to her house, slipping and sliding a little as she proceeded. A wordless, ephemeral melody flowed from her lips, guaranteeing that she would pay little attention to her surroundings.
Nightstick in hand, the stalker inched closer to her target until she was only a few steps behind.
The night was quiet except for Laura's singing and the crunching sound made when their boots mashed chunks of ice on the sidewalk. Both figures stopped when Laura ceased vocalizing the wordless melody and turned to see the one behind her.
Her eyes brightened, losing the dull sheen of inebriety. "I thought-." Before Laura could finish the sentence the nightstick crashed into her skull several times, sprinkling the sidewalk and snow with spatters of blood.
Breathing heavily, the stalker removed a glove and felt for a pulse in Laura's neck. There was none. "One down," she said to no one and then quickly returned to her vehicle two blocks away.
The Book Club Murders
Carin, Jenny, and Mary investigate two murders of their book club members in Rose Creek and Austin, Mn. They are assisted by Beth and Lisa Dolcheski, deputy sheriff of Spirit Grove.
Prologue
Rose Creek, Minnesota
She watched and waited, shielded from view by the protective shadows across the street. It was 10:08 p.m. The porch light had flicked on and the door had opened. Laughter permeated the air as women filtered out of the house, saying their goodbyes and then getting into their cars and driving away.
Laura Walters was the last to leave. She stood clearly illuminated in the porch light as she shared laughs and final words with the host of the monthly book club meeting. Laura said her last goodbye as she turned, exited the porch, and began the four block walk to her home; it was a neatly kept two story colonial on the north side of County Road 4.
The four glasses of wine she had drunk during the "meeting" seemed to warm her innards, although she still pulled the collar tighter against her exposed neck. She wore no hat as she braved the winter chill and negotiated the icy sidewalk guiding her to her house, slipping and sliding a little as she proceeded. A wordless, ephemeral melody flowed from her lips, guaranteeing that she would pay little attention to her surroundings.
Nightstick in hand, the stalker inched closer to her target until she was only a few steps behind.
The night was quiet except for Laura's singing and the crunching sound made when their boots mashed chunks of ice on the sidewalk. Both figures stopped when Laura ceased vocalizing the wordless melody and turned to see the one behind her.
Her eyes brightened, losing the dull sheen of inebriety. "I thought-." Before Laura could finish the sentence the nightstick crashed into her skull several times, sprinkling the sidewalk and snow with spatters of blood.
Breathing heavily, the stalker removed a glove and felt for a pulse in Laura's neck. There was none. "One down," she said to no one and then quickly returned to her vehicle two blocks away.
Wednesday, April 24, 2013
Gymocha books
I've been busy with a basement renovation project and left with little time to write, but did manage to sketch out a very iffy outline for a novel about brothers.
My current idea, and I say current, because my brain was in flux when I formulated it, is to begin with a scene that involves all three brothers in a life altering event. However, I am fairly certain that will change a couple of times before finally settling on what I might consider a beginning that could have potential.
I have two other stories begun with rough prologues and another one with a simple idea written down and saved. I may take a longer time working on all of these as I flesh out plot lines.
So, oh well. I'll keep plugging away with ideas and frameworks for a story about brothers. I have a feeling that I'll be wrestling with this for awhile.
Oh, I almost forgot my main reason for posting today, and that is, both of my books, Trust Me Now and Cassandra's Moon, are now available at Gymocha.
My current idea, and I say current, because my brain was in flux when I formulated it, is to begin with a scene that involves all three brothers in a life altering event. However, I am fairly certain that will change a couple of times before finally settling on what I might consider a beginning that could have potential.
I have two other stories begun with rough prologues and another one with a simple idea written down and saved. I may take a longer time working on all of these as I flesh out plot lines.
So, oh well. I'll keep plugging away with ideas and frameworks for a story about brothers. I have a feeling that I'll be wrestling with this for awhile.
Oh, I almost forgot my main reason for posting today, and that is, both of my books, Trust Me Now and Cassandra's Moon, are now available at Gymocha.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)